


Pieces Of Your Heart

by shield_maiden



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, becommissar, super brief jeca
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 03:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5952004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shield_maiden/pseuds/shield_maiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca remembers the first day she noticed the inky black and red marks on her skin. It turns out that she shares her soulmate mark with her current arch nemesis, and if that’s not the definition of fucked up then Beca’s not sure what is.</p><p>A Becommissar!Soulmates AU as requested on my tumblr! Rated for swearing but the rating may change later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pieces Of Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This has taken me forever largely because I'm at roughly the half way point and wasn't sure how to continue. This was supposed to be a one shot, but I'm now making it multi-chaptered, most likely three chapters.
> 
> Title is taken from 'Heart's A Mess' by Gotye.

Beca remembers the first day she noticed the inky black and red marks on her skin. She still remembers the buzzing glow of the halogen light as she’d dragged her shirt over her head, catching the briefest glimpse of it in the mirror and doing a double take before rubbing harshly at the floral design on her shoulder blade. Fucking Kelly probably drew it on her while she was passed out from way to much cheap beer, Beca thought as she stepped into the shower. Because there was no way that she, Beca Mitchell, would have a soulmate mark, when she wasn’t even sure she still believed in love. 

Ten minutes of intense scrubbing later and she was forced to admit that the marks weren’t going anywhere. Fuck. ‘Okay,’ she thought to herself as she leant  her forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall as the last of the soap suds swirled around her feet and down the drain. ‘I have a soulmate mark. And I’m seventeen. So? Lots of people have them, right? And I’ll probably never even find my soulmate if they exist. Which is highly unlikely.’ She thought with an eye roll. Internal pep talk over, she shut off the water hastily and dried and dressed herself, all while decidedly not looking at the new mark and ignoring the way her skin burned rawly under the thin material of her t-shirt.

* * *

When she turned eighteen, Beca added other tattoos to her body, by choice this time. Hopefully if she had others, no one would question any of them. A tiny lady bug on her inner arm, the lyrics from Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide on her ribs, and half a dozen other tiny adornments, and no one ever asks. Not Jesse, when he peels her shirt away from her skin so carefully that it makes her tremble, or Chloe, who’s seen her naked or in varying stages of undress more times than she cares to remember.

Jesse doesn’t have a mark, she’d checked, scanning his skin each time they had sex, and Beca can’t help the feeling of disappointment that wells inside her each time she doesn’t find one. Is it so wrong to wish that he was her soulmate? They’re compatible in every way.

Until they aren’t.

* * *

The first time they watch Das Sound Machine perform is the moment her whole world spins right off it’s axis. Or more precisely, it’s the moment she first makes eye contact with their ridiculously tall and ridiculously hot female leader. Beca feels her heart racing in her chest, and it’s definitely not the fear of new competition. Their first verbal sparring match happens right then and there, and it leaves Beca blushing furiously and stumbling over her words as she glares at the retreating German’s back before groaning and allowing Chloe to drag her away with the other Bella’s.

That night she lies awake for hours, trapped in Jesse’s slumbering embrace, replaying in her mind the gorgeous blonde woman and her stupid smirk. Sighing in frustration, she quietly untangles herself from Jesse, substituting her pillow in his arms when he starts to stir, and pads down the stairs of the Bella house to the kitchen, gathering her laptop and headphones as she goes. If she can’t sleep she might as well do some mixing, so she sits down at the table and starts opening random files.

It’s four am when she plays back what she’s created and Beca narrowly resists the urge to hit her head on the table as the opening notes of Muse’s Uprising filter through her headphones, woven through the rest of the track. Letting out a frustrated growl she debates deleting the track, but years ago, she’d promised herself that she’d never delete a track, no matter how much she hated it. So she hits save and shuts her laptop softly, hoping it might help her clamp down on the butterflies that have started swirling in her stomach again. It doesn’t, but it was worth a try, Beca tells herself as she tiredly pulls her hair into a ponytail as the first rays of sunlight filter through the windows. She considers curling up on the couch and catching a few hours of sleep before she needs to leave for her internship, but every time she shuts her eyes she sees the stupidly perfect face of that woman. Why, why does she always have to crush on the worst possible people, she wonders as she sets about making herself the first of what will probably be many coffees to get her through today.

* * *

When she gets home from work a few weeks later, all Beca wants to do is curl up in her sweats and marathon Full House on Netflix until she hopefully falls asleep, but if the mysterious invitation she finds on the Bella’s front porch is any indication, that isn’t about to happen. The scene she finds inside the house is only more perplexing and it takes her sleep deprived brain several seconds to understand what she’s actually seeing, the rest of the Bella’s are jumping on the couches, pillows and feathers flying. And she’s momentarily hurt to come home to find them all having fun without her- and okay, maybe she’s low key distracted by Stacie’s tiny booty shorts and the thin sliver of tanned abs that are revealed when the other girl reaches over her head. But that’s not the point. she thinks as she shakes herself out of her thoughts and hands the invitation to Chloe to open. After that it’s like being in a whirlwind of clothes and makeup, thankfully Beca still looks more than okay even after working all day, and after a few minor touch ups she settles on the couch until the other girls are ready to leave.

Once inside creepy acapella guy’s house the Bellas were quickly lead down to the basement, and Beca can’t help thinking that this is where she dies. Because creepy acapella guy is _clearly_ a serial killer, who likes murdering acapella teams in his basement, it’s the only logical explanation. But what she steps into as she descends the stairs is the furthest thing from creepy-mass-murderer-killing-spot. The basement is _huge_ , with what looks like a very well stocked bar along the back wall, complete with bar tenders. And then she notices the fact that the room is not empty. In fact it’s very far from empty, the Trebels are there, and she offers Jesse a soft smile which he doesn’t return and she feels them slipping away faster by the day. The Greenbay Packers as well, which surprises her a little, because, well who _knew?_ And finally, the ridiculously gorgeous woman who has occupied an annoying portion of her thoughts for weeks, flanked by her team, each of them as precise and unyielding as their leaders.

And if Beca’s gaze happens to linger a few seconds too long on those washboard abs, or those leather clad legs that stretch for days, then that’s her own business. The Bella’s are still clustered by the stairs, all seemingly slightly awestruck to the point that none of them notice the leaders of their current arch rivals stalking towards them until it’s too late. Beca tries to sound confident and not like a complete idiot this time, she really does, but she fails miserably and once more ends up complimenting The Kommissar instead of insulting her. The other woman just grins down at her, and she wants nothing more than to kiss the stupid condescending smirk of the blondes face. _Wait, what?_ Her thoughts come to a screeching halt as Chloe and Fat Amy drag her away.

She spends the next few minutes before the Riff Off psyching herself up, and trying not to fall into an existential crisis. Beca’s always been a little less than straight, or, okay, a _lot_ less than straight, at least in her own private thoughts and knowledge. And sure, she made out with Chloe a few times when they were both really drunk freshman year, and it was nice. Really nice. And Chloe is gorgeous, but they never really got it together and then before she knew it she was with Jesse. But something about The Kommissar was different, or rather, the way Beca felt about her was different.There was this almost magnetic pull, that seemed to draw her to seeking out the other woman, and even now, in the crowded basement, she found herself acutely aware of the blonde German’s presence in the room. 

But before she had the time to contemplate what it all might mean, creepy acapella guy was back and calling the teams into the centre of the room so that he could explain the rules to the Riff Off, and then it was down to business with DSM being gifted the honour of starting the first round.

Much to Beca’s surprise and to the joy of her competitive side, the Bella’s made it into the final, following several embarrassing stuff ups from their lesser rivals, and she would be laughing about it, if the same fate hadn’t swooped in and handed bragging rights _and_ the Dave and Busters card to the smug German gods. But she can’t be mad, especially not at Legacy, after all, she cost the Bella’s her first ever riff off way back when. She finds herself leaning against the bar, nursing a glass of _mindblowingly_ expensive whiskey and scowling while watching DSM jumping around like a bunch of school children to celebrate their win. And okay, _maybe_ she’s the one being childish by sulking in the corner, but this was her chance to prove that she could beat that tall, gorgeous, annoying German. And they’d failed. So here she was, drinking said _really_ expensive whiskey. 

She’s about to go back to staring morosely at her drink when a flash of blonde and black catches her attention for what has to be the fiftieth time that night. Beca is about to roll her eyes and go back to her drink anyway when she catches something she didn’t notice before, due to the German woman never having her back to her, or at least never wearing a mesh shirt while doing so. It’s slightly obscured by the transparent fabric, but she can still make it out and she knows it’s the same as her own. Identical even. Right down to size and placement, although the Komissar’s looks significantly smaller due to their insane size difference. She feels her mouth go dry, her brain grinding to a screeching halt before jump starting again at a million miles an hour about what it all means.

She shares her soulmate mark with her current arch nemesis, and if that’s not the definition of fucked up then Beca’s not sure what is. With that thought she downed the last of her whiskey in one swallow and gestured the bartender to make her another.

* * *

She resolves to keep the whole ‘our-new-arch-nemisis-and-I-share-a-soulmate-tattoo’ a secret, well kind of, she more just resolves to wait until it’s a good time to bring it up with the Bella’s, and like her internship, she secretly hopes that time is never. Beca wonders sometimes, how she ended up having  _so_ many secrets. But it’s a little hard to just casually say ‘Oh, by the way I’m interning with a music producer and I think the Kommissar is actually my soul mate. What’s new with you guys?’

So she keeps it to herself. She doesn’t even tell Jesse, but considering that they lasted a grand total of two days after the riff off before everything falls apart for good this time, she didn’t really have the time to drop that bomb. And she was still figuring how she felt about it all herself.

But the thing about secrets is that they always come out in the end. And Beca’s were no exception. Terrified and suspended ten feet above the ground at Aubrey’s ridiculous team building camp after another disaster performance, she spills them all. Well, almost. It’s not until later when the team are sitting around the bonfire, sharing their after graduation plans that she remembers the last one, that had completely slipped her mind. 

They all watch the flames for a minute and Beca takes the time to look at each of her friends in silence, gathering her thoughts and taking a deep breath before she speaks. She dreams of the words coming eloquently and freely, but as if that would ever be her life.

“The Kommissar and I share a soul mate mark.” She announces, and immediately winces internally as all eyes snap to her and questions are fired rapidly. Beca can feel herself becoming overwhelmed by it, but when Chloe holds up her hands and tells everyone to stop and let her explain she manages a breath and a small smile at her best friend before launching into the explanation.

When she’s finally finished and the last question of ‘what are you going to do?’ hangs over her head unanswered they all decide to call it a night and crawl into their giant tent. Beca lies there in her sleeping bag, staring at the ceiling as one by one the whispers stop and everyone falls asleep. What was she going to do? Nothing? Tell the Kommissar and have her laugh in her face? Tell her and maybe have things work out okay?

Since the day she found her mark, Beca’s been unknowingly searching for her match in everyone she saw. Wether it was Chloe, or Jesse, or any other number of people who she’d flirted with briefly at high school and college parties when she’d consumed enough alcohol to make her outgoing and sociable, instead of that weird sarcastic girl who was basically Daria Morgendorffer come to life (although everyone with a functioning brain knows that Daria is cool, thank you very much). But now she knows who her soulmate is, and it’s so insane and surreal and just really terrifying. Partly because on some level, Beca’s spent years telling herself that there was no way that this would ever happen.

She sighed and rolled onto her side as best she could in the cramped tent without accidentally kneeing anyone in the stomach and let her mind wander through all the possibilities until her eyes grew heavy and she drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this fic, please leave a comment as they really do make my day! Or message me on tumblr @crimson--petrichor as I take all kinds of requests!


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